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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488624">The Boy Who Slept</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lils_White/pseuds/Lils_White'>Lils_White</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco Malfoy is So Done, Enemies to worse enemies, F/F, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, House Elves, M/M, Minister for Magic Hermione Granger, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Platonic Relationships, Plot, Possessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), Post-Second War with Voldemort, Squibs, Trans Harry Potter, Unhealthy Relationships, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:21:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lils_White/pseuds/Lils_White</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1998, Voldemort discovered Harry Potter was his Horcrux and, therefore, decided not to kill him. He chose to put him to sleep forever with the Draught of Living Death, and lock him up in a tower that no one could reach. That way, Harry Potter wouldn't bother him and he would live forever.</p><p>Twenty-five years later, the boy who lived opened his eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astoria Greengrass &amp; Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Harry Potter &amp; Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter &amp; Voldemort, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter &amp; Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            A translation of

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26375674">The Boy Who Slept</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lils_White/pseuds/Lils_White">Lils_White</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Prologue</b>
</p><p>“It's Potter! Potter is here!”</p><p>Harry stopped at the line of Death Eaters that emerged from the trees, but the curse Hermione shouted made them explode before they had time to catch him.</p><p>“He's here, Harry! You have to go!”</p><p>Harry leapt to avoid a fallen tree, trying to reach the exit of the forest, and petrifying two Death Eaters along the way. His lungs felt on fire and the scar hurt so bad he could hardly think.</p><p>“The portkey will be out in less than a minute, Harry! You have to get there! He is here!”</p><p>Harry saw a curse pass under his arm and fought back barely noticing who had thrown it.</p><p>“We haven't found Ron yet, Hermione, we can't go!”</p><p>For a moment, his vision went unfocused and he found himself in another part of the forest; he saw a hand almost as white as the moon rise to point a wand at Arthur Weasley.</p><p>“No time for that, Harry!” The tears in his friend's voice were so palpable that Harry felt the salty taste deep in his own throat. “You have to go! You know it as well as I do, so RUN!”</p><p>Hermione swung her wand with her last word and three Death Eaters screamed in agony.</p><p>“Run, I'll cover you!”</p><p>Harry ran. His temple throbbed and his scar burned; his boots sank into the mud and the branches that he sped past scratched his face and arms. Harry had been running his whole life.</p><p>He could see the portkey at the foot of the Whomping Willow, where Malfoy had promised it would be. An old shoe that everyone would have thought normal at first glance. Objects without any need to be special in themselves but that hid something, that was a portkey. Just like the Horcruxes.</p><p>Just like him.</p><p> <em>"Inmobilus!</em>"</p><p>Harry's body was stopped in its tracks, and for a moment he thought he had cast the spell. He thought his lips had uttered it to stop the Whomping Willow, because he could feel it on the tip of his tongue, gliding like a whisper.</p><p>But the Whomping Willow continued to move its branches lazily, and Harry remained perfectly still. The scar hurt so bad it made his ears ring.</p><p>He saw a black robe billow out of the corner of his eye, covering pale feet that walked barefoot on the ground as if the cold and dirt couldn't reach them. They probably couldn't.</p><p><em> They're all dead </em> , Harry told himself hysterically. <em> They are all dead and that’s why he is here. Everything has been useless. </em></p><p>Harry wished he was dead too, but knew he wouldn't be so lucky.</p><p>Red eyes and a tall figure appeared in his field of vision, and Voldemort cracked a cold smile, stopping in front of him. Harry tried to return the most defiant look he was able to conjure in his circumstances; he still couldn't move and the urge to scream didn’t go away.</p><p>Voldemort raised a long-fingered hand to touch his forehead. He brushed his hair away from his scar and ran a cold finger down his cheek in what could almost be mistaken for a caress, but his smile was cruel and his eyes invoked nightmares. Harry felt nauseous.</p><p>“Harry Potter." He said with sadistic satisfaction. “You are finally mine."</p><p>He drew a small vial from between the folds of his robe, although it seemed too light to carry anything; like a simple cloak of darkness whose only job was to clothe the most dangerous wizard in recent years.</p><p>Voldemort brought the vial to his lips, and Harry, petrified, could only watch in terror.</p><p>
  <em> Let it be poison. Please let it be poison. </em>
</p><p>He knew it wasn't. He knew Voldemort wasn’t going to let a part of him die, but even the boy who lived had the right to dream.</p><p>The liquid was thick and sweet, running easily down his throat despite Harry's efforts to resist. Voldemort held his chin to make sure not a drop escaped, and Harry knew he had lost.</p><p><em> Ron. Hermione. </em> Voldemort withdrew the vial from his lips and stared at him with cruel eyes. <em> Dumbledore. Sirius. Mad-Eye.  Dobby. Hedwig. Cedric. Mom. Dad. Sorry. I'm so sorry. </em></p><p>Harry closed his eyes and slept.</p><hr/><p>When he was seven years old, his aunt's dog chased him for hours and he climbed a tree to escape it. Harry never forgot the sound of his uncles and cousin laughing in the background, none of them trying to make any effort to help him.</p><p>In his dreams, Harry had that same sense of helplessness and loneliness. Dreams, themselves, were difficult to remember. They came one after another, and when the next one arrived, he no longer remembered the previous one or remembered he was dreaming.</p><p>Sometimes a man with a giant head and only one eye would decide his fate in a goblin trial, but when he was found guilty on unknown charges, the ground parted under him and Harry fell, fell, fell.</p><p>But instead of waking up, he came to the next dream.</p><p>Sometimes he was the size of a garden gnome and he danced holding hands with his friends, until he was big again and was so hungry that he ended up devouring those friends.</p><p>Sometimes he even dreamed of being awake.</p><p>
  <em> Sirius puts a hand on his back, because he's proud of him. Ginny hugs him, because she loves him. Ron and Hermione are by his side, like always. His parents smile at him. Harry looks at himself in the mirror, red eyes staring back at him from a pale face. </em>
</p><hr/><p>At first, there are rumors.</p><p>They say the Chosen One sleeps on top of an old tower no one has ever been able to approach. They say only those who know its location can see it, and only those who don't want to know its location can know it. They say the Dark Lord keeps the Chosen One asleep because he doesn’t dare to confront him. They say the Chosen One doesn’t wake up because he doesn’t want to.</p><p>They say no one with magic can step inside the tower, and no one without magic can even perceive it. They say it’s the perfect prison, the eternal nightmare.</p><p>They say The Resistance managed to overthrow Voldemort's government thanks to the sacrifice of the spy Severus Snape and the great power of its leader, the Chosen One's friend, Hermione Granger. They say even if democracy has been recovered and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been defeated a second time, this is not over.</p><p>They say he’s still there, in the shadows, ready to strike again when we are relaxed and calm, without expecting it. They say only the Chosen One can definitively defeat him, but he has been dreaming for years.</p><p>They say there is no need to worry about Hermione Granger as the new Minister for Magic, because she's the heroine who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; she's everything Dumbledore should have been. They say a muggle-born like her will never be able to properly rule the Wizarding World.</p><p>They say muggles are dangerous, unpredictable, that the world is starting to show an expiration date because of them, that they have to be stopped. They say we should talk to them, make them understand, that we are not so different.</p><p>They say house elves are free beings and have begun to demand rights, that they kill their masters and bathe in their blood. They say they are slaves who became too arrogant, that we have to secure their chains.</p><p>They say the end is near. They say a new era has just begun.</p><p>In the end, everyone stops talking about the boy who lived and the monster who tried to kill him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Monster Who Lived</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a reference to the first chapter of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone".</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>I</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Monster Who Lived</b>
</p><p>Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, who lived in a mansion on the outskirts of a seaside town, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything dangerous or dark, because they were a clever marriage and the Ministry was always watching them.</p><p>Mr. Malfoy was the heir to a great fortune of pureblood wizards, and he employed it in seemingly charitable causes and in subtle bribes, as his illustrious family had been doing for generations. He was a tall man, although not as tall as he would like, with thinning silver hair and a crooked nose. Mrs. Malfoy, formerly Greengrass, was also the heir to a large fortune of pureblood wizards, but she preferred to employ it in alcohol and gambling with goblins. She was almost taller than her husband, with messy blond hair and a menacing expression, which was always useful in her squabbles with these goblins.</p><p>The Malfoys didn't consider themselves particularly lucky because they weren't a couple who tended to see the bright side of things, but the truth is that they were.</p><p>Mr. Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater involved in the cause of the most dangerous dark wizard in the country, and Mr. Malfoy himself had become part of that terrorist group in his teens. In the end, being wise enough to help those who fought against the tyrannical rule of the dark wizard had served to save Malfoy from the same fate his father suffered: one of the graves reserved for the family blood. About his mother, retired in France and unwilling to return to England, Mr. Malfoy preferred not to speak.</p><p>Our story begins when Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy woke up on a Tuesday to a clear sky and a bright, hot sun —or as hot as October can be in England—. There was nothing in that bright sky that suggested something was going to stop their usual routine. Mr. Malfoy was muttering under his breath as he adjusted his robe to visit the Ministry, lamenting that they could no longer have a house elf, and Mrs. Malfoy was snoring loudly from the couch where she had passed out early in the morning.</p><p>Neither noticed the mysterious disappearance of two of the peacocks that were running around the garden.</p><p>At half past eight, Mr. Malfoy finished complaining about all the evil that was happening in his life, yelled at his wife that he expected her to die in her sleep, and walked out the door.</p><p>He noticed the first sign that something strange was going on when he reached the corner of his garden from where he could Disapparate: a cat was smiling at him from the other side of the street. For a second, Mr. Malfoy didn't fully process what he had seen, but then he raised his head to look again. There was a black cat on the street, but it wasn't smiling, just licking its genitals. Mr. Malfoy didn’t give it more importance, he had only drank one coffee and, for a wizard, seeing a cat smile was not something that strange.</p><p>At the time he arrived at the Ministry, he had already forgotten about the cat and was wondering if he'd have time for breakfast in the cafeteria. Probably not; he had a meeting with Hermione Granger, the Minister for Magic, and in Mr. Malfoy's opinion, she was still as snotty and pedantic as she had been during her school years.</p><p>But something happened again in the lift that pushed the hunger and disdain from his mind. For a moment, before the doors closed, his left arm burned. He didn't have time to process the sensation before the lift jerked violently to the right and he was pushed against a squat, grumbling man. He was too shocked to be disgusted by unwanted human contact (and maybe he wasn't even a pureblood!), but he tried to calm his heartbeat by clinging to logic.</p><p><em> It wasn't real</em>, he told himself, like he had done hundreds of times. <em>The Dark Mark is a scar, scars hurt sometimes. It doesn’t mean He has returned. Last time there were a lot more signs, it’s not possible. </em></p><p>Mr. Malfoy had managed to calm himself by the time he reached the Minister for Magic's office, but he felt the weight of the Mark for the rest of the day. As expected, Hermione Granger lectured him on his responsibility to pull the strings in the pureblood circles so that pro-house elf laws were accepted, and on much more that Mr. Malfoy didn't bother to listen.</p><p>Despite everything, Mr. Malfoy was fortunate to be away from home, where Mrs. Malfoy woke up after eleven with a horrible headache and the feeling of being observed.</p><p>A smiling black cat watched her from the window. Mrs. Malfoy felt a little puzzled and a little disturbed, because she could almost swear the cat was watching her panties. She closed her legs quickly and glared at him, but she didn't feel up to doing anything else. She liked cats.</p><p><em> But they shouldn't smile, it doesn't look good on them,</em> she told herself as she got up to look for a hangover potion.</p><p>Strange events took place in the Malfoy Manor throughout the day, but went completely unnoticed by the lady of the house. The black cat paced all over the land, like a predator licking its lips as it circled its prey. Another peacock disappeared, and the others wailed and scampered, but Mrs. Malfoy cast a silencing spell on them and proceeded to read, gloating over her husband's absence.</p><p>It was her maid, who arrived at twelve o'clock, who suffered the strange events surrounding the mansion. Miss Lavander Brown had been working for the Malfoys for five years; since the Elves Liberation Movement began, no one felt safe hiring one —"They kill their masters, for Merlin's sake!" Mr. Malfoy always said when he brought up the subject—. Her contract with the Malfoys, however, hadn't been random. Miss Brown had been a member of the Resistance in the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and was supposed to report to the authorities if she suspected something strange was going on with the Malfoys.</p><p>And something strange was going on with the Malfoys, alright, but this wasn't exactly what Miss Brown had in mind when she got this job.</p><p>Mrs. Malfoy barely dignified her presence with a grunt, which was already more than Mr. Malfoy did, whose motto was "a good servant doesn’t stand out." Miss Brown played her role well, but secretly —and not so secretly, if the Leaky Cauldron customers could attest to it— she dreamed of poison them and never have to see them again.</p><p>Despite her homicidal urges, Miss Brown ignored the scant greeting and the peacock revolution in the garden, and proceeded to perform cleansing spells and prepare the food. She was trying to do her best; she didn’t want to give the Malfoys any excuse to fire her and be unable to work as a spy.</p><p>Her day was interrupted on two occasions, however. The first time she was arranging the flowers in the garden and making sure no gnomes sneaked in, because the very rebellious folk tended to do so even when they weren’t welcome. There she was when she heard a hiss and saw a snake move through the grass. Miss Brown wasn’t fond of snakes, but she had been sent to Gryffindor, the House of Bravery, and had faced a werewolf and survived with only a few disfiguring marks on her beautiful face. She was used to keep her cool and fight her fears. Unfortunately, the snake wasn’t a small or even normal snake; it was huge, several meters long, with sharp fangs. Miss Brown did the only sensible thing: she screamed and cast a repelling spell at the monster, before running back to the mansion. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a black cat laughing at her.</p><p>The second time her day was interrupted, she was making dinner and she heard a spine-chilling screech from the street. When she went to look there was nothing, but the day had quickly darkened, and storm clouds hovered overhead.</p><p>Restless, she informed Mrs. Malfoy of the strange events; but she, engrossed in her novel, shrugged her shoulders and replied that it could be some lost muggle.</p><p>“Those scream all the time, don't they?” She said.</p><p>Overall, Miss Brown felt very fortunate to leave the mansion early that day, and she Disapparated without looking back.</p><p>Mr. Malfoy came home a few hours later, after a full day dealing with boring Ministry workers who wanted his money. The first thing he saw when he Apparated —and that didn’t improve his mood— was the black cat he had encountered in the morning. It was sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same, because his mouth curved upward in an unnatural way that no cat's mouth should curve.</p><p>“Out!” Said Mr. Malfoy.</p><p>The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a mocking look. Mr. Malfoy drew his wand and cursed in its direction, but the cat dodged it and leapt over the wall to hide. Satisfied enough, Mr. Malfoy entered his house.</p><p>Dinner went without incident. Miss Brown made it appear at the dining room table at exactly six o'clock, and it was probably the only time of the day the couple shared. Mrs. Malfoy used to spend it reading and ignoring her husband, and Mr. Malfoy listening to the radio.</p><p>“And finally, we report that our beloved war hero Ronald Weasley is going through his third divorce! There’s nothing left to do but to wonder what makes him unable to convince any woman to put up with him for the rest of his life. If you're interested, the witty Mrs. Lovegood wrote <em>How to be the second wife of a freckled redhead and avoid the Nargles at the same time </em>narrating her experience. Spoiler! They aren’t two compatible things, apparently.”</p><p>“Don’t you think you're exaggerating, Fred?” His interlocutor intervened with a heartfelt voice. “After all, Mr. Weasley has shown us that even if he’s unable to maintain them, he definitely can get the ladies! His last wife, the lovely Gabrielle Delacour, was six years his junior and part veela.”</p><p>“That’s right, George! And to discover how an idiot like our b- I mean, how the illustrious Mr. Weasley was able to conquer such a diverse cast of ladies, Miss Delacour will be here next Tuesday to give us a full insight into her horrible experience.”</p><p>“Don't forget in October the products at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are at half price!”</p><p>“Buy our charming cups of tea if you too wish to end your husband!”</p><p>“It won't kill him but it’ll seal his lips for a couple of days!”</p><p>Mr. Malfoy set the silverware on his plate, satisfied. It was always comforting to hear how the life of his old schoolmates was a complete disaster. More encouraged, he felt strong enough to start a conversation with his wife.</p><p>“Granger wants me to talk more about the house elf problem.”</p><p>Mrs. Malfoy raised her head immediately. They didn't like each other, and they never had, but they were an alliance. When it came to plan how to maintain their power and their comfortable life, they worked as a team.</p><p>“You aren’t going to get anything,” she replied with a frown. “It's ridiculous that she even asks you, house elves have murdered wizards, we're not going to give them rights. Isn't that terrorism?”</p><p>“I know! I’ve tried to explain it to her but she says they’re justified in doing so because we have them in a situation of slavery.”</p><p>Mrs. Malfoy made an incredulous sound, evidently in disagreement with that statement.</p><p>“I can't believe they let her be Minister for Magic.”</p><p>“It was only thanks to her stroke of luck in the final battle, but she has always been a conceited one who believes herself to be superior to others,” said Mr. Malfoy with deep disdain.</p><p>“The elections are soon, aren’t they? They’ll get her out of the way by then. Everyone was delighted to lick her feet after her victory against You-Know-Who, but it's been years since then and purebloods are getting tired of her. They won't let her win again.”</p><p>Mr. Malfoy made a thoughtful sound.</p><p>“I think Marcus Flint is going to run for the opposition. He's an idiot, but maybe what we need right now is an idiot to use.”</p><p>Mrs. Malfoy drank her tea thoughtfully, but neither of them said anything more on the subject. Her husband got up from the table to go to bed, but stopped when he saw his wife took a plate of leftovers —she ate very little— and left it out the window.</p><p>“Astoria? What are you doing?” He asked, puzzled. Mrs. Malfoy had been quirky since the beginning of their marriage, and Mr. Malfoy usually preferred not to ask, but this was weird even to her standards.</p><p>“There was a cat here this morning,” she answered absently, already reclining in the chair and engrossed in her book again. “Just in case it’s still around.”</p><p>Mr. Malfoy wanted to criticize the idea of feeding a wild animal, but one thought struck him.</p><p>“You mean the black smiling cat?”</p><p>“Yeah, that one.”</p><p>“I don't think you should feed him, then.” Mr. Malfoy gave her his most critical gaze. “It’s likely that he’s bewitched or even some Animagus sent from the Ministry to spy on us. Cats don't smile.”</p><p>Mrs. Malfoy blinked a couple of times.</p><p>“They don’t?”</p><p>Giving up any attempt at logical reasoning with his wife, Mr. Malfoy went upstairs to bathe. While he waited for the bathtub to fill —<em> if I had a house elf I wouldn't have to wait </em>, he thought—, Mr. Malfoy walked slowly to the bathroom window and scanned the front garden. The cat was still there. He was staring out into the street, as if he were waiting for something.</p><p>Was it an envoy from the Ministry? It was likely, but in any case, they had nothing to charge them with. He and his wife had been exemplary for years, helping in whatever way they could. The Mark on his arm was just a bad memory. A scar. He had nothing to worry about.</p><p>After that, Mr. Malfoy fell into a restless sleep, but the cat sitting on the garden wall showed no signs of dozing. He was as motionless as a statue, his eyes fixed, unblinking, on the street corner. He hardly trembled when a giant snake passed him, nor when two owls flew over his head. The truth is that the cat didn’t move until midnight.</p><p>A woman appeared in the corner the cat had been observing, and she did it so suddenly and silently that you’d think she had emerged from the ground. In her right hand she clutched an old shoe that she dropped to the ground as soon as she found herself in the right place, and in her left she cradled a bundle of rags. The cat's tail wagged and its eyes narrowed.</p><p>The woman, although <em> the girl </em>was a more appropriate term, had the childish features of a teenager. Her eyes were slanted and alarmingly green, her lips full and shapely, and her nose small. Her skin was pale as a moonbeam, although at the moment it was covered almost entirely by a black robe. Despite her youthful appearance, her bearing and eyes indicated age. The girl's name was Daphne Greengrass.</p><p>For some reason, seeing the cat seemed to upset her. She mumbled under her breath and muttered:</p><p>“I should have known.”</p><p>Daphne paced the street from one side to the other, surveying the mansion and exploring the place. Only when she seemed satisfied did she speak to the cat again.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here, Blaise?”</p><p>She turned to glare at the cat, but it was gone. In its place, a very tall man with brown skin occupied the space. He was handsome in an insulting way, with straight eyebrows and high cheekbones, but he was also much older than his companion. He was in his forties, but he had aged well, and there was no gray hair in sight. His smile was exactly as mocking as the cat's.</p><p>“Making sure the area was safe for delivery, obviously.”</p><p>“I made sure of that the other day, arsehole. Your walking around will only have brought suspicion, you don’t know the meaning of the word subtlety.”</p><p>“My dear, subtlety is my middle name.”</p><p>Before Daphne could reply, something moved among the bundle of fabrics she was holding and a murmur arose from there:</p><p>“We don't have time for your pointless chatter, you must leave me before someone discovers us.”</p><p>Blaise paled several tones at the whisper, but Daphne hardly flinched.</p><p>“You haven't told us the spell to fix Theodore yet.”</p><p>The bundle of rags let out a dry laugh.</p><p>“No one can fix your friend. He was broken since he was born, you can only hide the mess.”</p><p>Daphne clicked her tongue.</p><p>“Call it what you like. Before we leave you in Draco and Astoria's care, you’ll tell us the spell we need or I’ll strangle you with my bare hands so you can search for a body again.”</p><p>There was a chilling silence, only broken by the hooting of an owl and Blaise’s nervous giggle.</p><p>“Very well,” said the thing in Daphne's arms. “Bring me closer to your ear.”</p><p>Blaise was sweating like he had just run a marathon, but Daphne's pulse didn't tremble as she hugged the little being to her chest and brought her ear to where his mouth should be.</p><p>After three heartbeats, she pulled him away from her.</p><p>“All right then.” She handed the bundle of cloth to Blaise, who stared at it as if he had just been approached by a dead rat.</p><p>“Since you're here, take him to the door and do something useful. My back is starting to hurt from carrying him.”</p><p>Blaise swallowed hard and tried a nervous smile.</p><p>“We can also leave him here and yell for them to come out, or you can carry him all the way like you had planned to do and train those pretty legs. Why change it when you already had such a wonderful plan? Don't let my attractive presence distract you-”</p><p>A hiss resonated between his feet, and Blaise let out a shrill screech at the giant snake staring at him.</p><p>“Nagini says to hurry up,” the hissing voice from the bundle of cloth informed him.</p><p>Hating all the decisions that had led him to that moment, Blaise grabbed the clothes like there was an explosive in there, and walked to the door with Nagini crawling after him. He placed it on the threshold, and the serpent surrounded the little body like a watchful mother.</p><p>“Well,” Blaise finally said, “that's it. We’ve got nothing else to do here, although it has been a very interesting few months. Thanks for the spell, I hope you can be tall again one day. We will go now. Good luck.”</p><p>The <em>thing</em> on the ground gave another terrifying chuckle.</p><p>“Good luck <em> to you </em>, Blaise Zabini.”</p><p>Blaise turned on his heel and tried not to run back to Daphne. After this, they’d pick up Theodore and leave the country, Blaise was sure of that. England could keep trying to destroy itself, they had no need to be present for it.</p><p>“Do you think they'll be okay?” Asked Daphne when he reached her, concerned.</p><p>Blaise snorted.</p><p>“Of course they won't be okay, we just left You-Know-Who in fetus form at their door. But it was them or Theodore.”</p><p>Daphne bit her lip.</p><p>“I guess so, I hope it was worth it.”</p><p>Blaise couldn't find the words to answer her, so he covered her with one arm and they both disappeared.</p><p>A breeze stirred the neat hedges of Malfoy Manor. The peacocks slept, calm at last. The house was silent under a starry sky. It looked like an ordinary country mansion. Tom Marvolo Riddle flailed his little body on the floor and waved his wand to rattle the door. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were suddenly awake, not knowing who was calling at this time of night or what awaited them. They couldn’t imagine what they were going to find at their door, nor the terror that would accompany the discovery. They couldn't know that the monster who had haunted the Wizarding World for years had returned, and his ember eyes glowed with pleasure at the knowledge people were still afraid to speak his name. His real name.</p><p>Lord Voldemort.</p>
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